What the Heck?
by BHICH1412
Summary: Not your typical regular-girl-gets-trapped-in-the-Twilight-world story. For one, this one isn't a Twilight fan. Actually, she's a hater. So what happens when a Twihater gets stuck in the Twilight world?


When I woke up I decided that I was definitely not in my room. Unless, of course, my room rapidly grew a whole forest inside it overnight. Which I severely doubt. So why exactly was I laying on the ground in a forest? I don't know, exactly.

Last night I'd done nothing special. I read a couple chapters of some manga, debated with twitards online, wished on a star that Twilight's Edward Cullen could have had somebody who isn't a werewolf hate him (as a joke, of course,) then I went to sleep.

Nope, nothing unusual there.

Oh well, I guess. I'll figure out _why_ I'm here later. First I should figure out where the hell_ here_ is. So I sat up and looked around. I was lying just off a dirt path, so my best bet was to walk the path until I found something. It didn't look like an animal path to me, it seemed manmade, so I shouldn't run into a bear or moose or something.

I walked the path. For a very long time. I was thinking that I took the wrong direction and was being led away from civilization when I saw a huge house.

A huge house the freakishly resembled the one in the Twilight movie.

Twenty bucks said that a crazy, rich, Edward-fangirl lived there. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the twitard, and walked up to the door and knocked.

It wasn't a twitard who answered the door… well, at least, I didn't _think _there were 23-year-old male twitards… ones who were so obsessed that they lived in houses that were clones of the Cullen house, or dressed up to look like Carlisle. I guess there was, because I was staring one in face.

"I need directions," I said, pretending to be calm. "Where's the nearest town," and paused before adding, "and what is the nearest town?"

The blond raised his eyebrow at me, "Lost?" he asked with an amused grin. I nodded. "Well, you're right outside of Forks, Washington."

Haha. Very funny, twitard. Now where am I, really? "Are you sure?"

"Miss, I'm sure. I live here."

No! I couldn't tell. I thought you were just answering somebody else's door and greeting their guests! "Okay," I smiled, "which direction should I go?" I played along, waiting for him to tell me he's kidding.

"You just have to follow that road," he pointed to the road in front of the house, "that way," he pointed left, "until you reach a small town. Got it?"

"That road, follow it left-ways 'till there's a town," I confirmed. He nodded.

I followed the road, shaking the obsessive twitard out of my head. It was his life, who was I to interfere? If he wanted to pretend he was Carlisle then it wasn't my problem. Not in the least bit.

Was I really in Forks though? I lived in Vancouver, BC, so if I was going to be dropped somewhere, I'm sure Forks was a feasible location. But the problem was; the person who dropped me here would've had to have my passport to get across the border. The only people who know where that is are my parents and I. Did my parents drop me here.

I snorted at this thought. I doubt my parents would just drop me off in a random forest in the States. Especially nearby Forks. They couldn't be that sadistic? I've read online that Forks' tourism was really high, and they were all annoying Twilight fangirls. I hate twihards.

I noticed I sign in the distance and squinted my eyes. I couldn't read it from this far away. As I walked I took my glasses off my face and cleaned them with my shirt. Speaking of clothing, I don't have any clean clothes on me, and I was in my track pants and sleep shirt. Nor did I have money.

Ouch. That's why Mr. Twitard was giving me weird looks. Heh. It's just like me not to notice those things.

What time was it, anyways? I walked for about two hours on that path, and I met Mr. Twitard about a half hour ago… usually I wake up at 8:30 on the dot, so it should be about noon.

I was close enough to read the sign now. _Welcome to Forks_, it said it large letters. I gasped. The population was written under it in smaller letters, but I didn't pay that a second thought.

I gasped. So I was really in Forks?

Well, at least that explains the tard that looks like Carlisle. Where else would an obsessive Twilight fan live? Ten bucks says he's a doctor too.

So I made it to civilization. That was step one though. Next was to find the police station to explain my situation. That means that I had to ask for directions again.

I looked around the deserted street. It was deserted. That was weird. It was tourist season, so I expected Forks to be overflowing with obsessive twitards looking for Edward.

Oh well, I'll figure that out after I have a place to stay. I walked into a store without looking at the sign. There was nobody at the cash register so I put on my best 'helpless puppy' look and said, "Hello?" nervously.

"Oh, a customer," a boy came up from behind me. "How may I help you, Miss?"

Okay, had Forks been completely over-run by people pretending to be Twilight characters? This guy looks like Mike, and has a namtag that labels him as 'Mike'. It's for tourism, I decided. It must be for tourists.

"I'm just looking for the police station. I'm lost."

'Mike' looked at my state of dress and raised an eyebrow, but gave me directions nonetheless.

* * *

_Forks Police Station_, the big letters told me I'd arrived at my destination. I still hadn't seen a rabid Twilighter, and it was beginning to worry me. Even if the people of Forks were exaggerating about the amount of people coming, I knew I should've seen at least one tard.

No matter, my problem was getting home. The lack of tards probably had nothing to do with this issue. I walked into the police station.

The man who ended up helping me was, apparently, the police chief. And he looked like Bella's dad. "Hi, my name's Charlie Swan."

"This is pushing it," I insisted. "What's your name for real?"

"Charlie Swan. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Uhh," I didn't get what was going on. "Well, I don't know why, but this morning I woke up in the forest. I swear I went to sleep in my bed last night."

"You probably were sleepwalking."

Stupid man. I'm sure I wasn't sleepwalking. "Mister Swan, I live in Vancouver." I'm sure I didn't sleepwalk from Vancouver, BC to Forks, Washington.

"Oh," he flushed, "I guess you didn't sleepwalk." Yeah! That goes without saying, man. "What's your name?"

* * *

Well, according to the computer there were a million 'Alexis Smith's, but none of them were at my home address. Heck, as he looked farther into it as the day went on we realized that I didn't seem to exist.

"Well," he scratched the back of his head at the end of the day, "I don't know what we're supposed to do with you. Are you sure that it's your name?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Then something came to me. "What's the date?"

"Tuesday, September 15, 2009. Why?"

Okay, it's still the same date. "No reason." Why wouldn't it be, I had to ask myself. Why did I think otherwise?

"You could spend the night at my place if you want," he offered kindly. I looked to the floor. I had to money, so I'd sleep on the street otherwise. But this was still a strange man…

"I have a daughter," he continued, "and she got married this summer. You can sleep in her room and borrow some clothing she left in her room."

This was the best offer I was going to get, but still… "What was your daughter's name?"

"Isabella."

Very funny. This is a pretty big scale prank though. Even for the prank wars, this was too big scale. The comforting thought that I held onto all day as a reason I was left there, no matter how improbable it was, was flung out the window. If it was the prank wars though, I'll admit defeat with this one. If Louis really pulled a prank this big, he wins.

But I really doubt that it was Louis.

"I'll take that offer," I smiled a thank you. I'd figure out what was going on in the morning. That is, if this wasn't all just a nightmare.


End file.
